Your Song Speaks to Me
by Ziva Lou
Summary: Draco is feeling low. But when he hears the song, he might just meet the very girl he needs. Songfic, 'Poor Little Rich Boy' by Regina Spektor, Oneshot, T for language


**Your Song Speaks to Me**

**Set about a year after the Battle of Hogwarts.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling, I don't own 'Poor Little Rich Boy' by Regina Spektor, and I don't own the above-mentioned author and singer.**

**000**

Draco wasn't sure when he had started the walks. Was it before his father was sent back to Azkaban? Was it after his mother had started locking herself in her room at all hours of the day? Or was it after he agreed to be Pansy's boyfriend again?

Either way, he knew he had been treading this stretch of sidewalk for many months, tracing his way through Muggle London, avoiding the Leaky Cauldron and the Ministry entrances. Sometimes, Draco felt as though he were being followed, but he didn't care anymore. What was the point of confronting whoever was tracking him if it would only land him in more trouble?

It was another gray London day when he first saw them. A group of three girls, two brunettes and a blonde, all around his age, were hanging around the area where Muggles sometimes held concerts in Hyde Park. They were laughing and seemed to be having fun. As Draco passed them, he heard what sounded like a melody to a song yet unknown by him.

He ignored them. What were three insignificant Muggle girls to him? He would probably never see them again, anyways.

But Draco was wrong.

Whatever route he took through London, he always passed by or through Hyde Park at some point, and every day after that first, they were always there, laughing, talking, singing a little. He didn't like to admit it, but he was becoming intrigued by them, especially the shorter brunette. She was, in his eyes, the prettiest of the bunch.

Intending to find out _something_ about them, Draco brought a newspaper with him one day and sat down on a bench that was not too far, nor too near the girls. They were singing again.

"Poor little rich boy," sang the taller brunette, "All the couples have gone."

"You wish that they hadn't," the blonde picked up, "you don't want to be alone."

"But they want to kiss! And they've got homes of their own." The girl Draco watched so closely, the short brunette, chimed in.

"Poor little rich boy, all the couples have gone." The first girl sang.

"Have gone," the blond echoed.

"Have gone," Finding it confusing to refer to her as 'the shorter brunette' or 'the third girl', Draco decided that, in his head, he would call her Star. The blonde would be Moon, and the tall brunette would be Comet.

"And you don't love your girlfriend," Moon's words struck a chord in Draco. He _didn't_ love Pansy. He didn't even like her anymore. She was just something to tolerate. "You don't love your girlfriend!"

"And you think, that you should, but she thinks that she's fat, but she isn't, but you don't love her anyway." Comet sang so fast Draco didn't even catch all of her words.

"And you don't love your mother," Star began, "and you know that you should." _True again_, Draco thought. His love for Narcissa had been steadily dwindling for years. "And you wish, that you would, but you don't anyway."

"Poor little rich boy, all the world is okay." Comet picked up. _I wish that were true._

"The water runs off your skin, and down into the drain." Moon smirked a little as she sang this line.

"You're reading Fitzgerald, you're reading Hemingway!" Draco figured that Star was referencing popular Muggle authors, as he had no idea who she was talking about.

"They're both super smart, and drinking in the cafes." He wasn't really sure what intelligence and cafes had to do with authors, but Star and Moon seemed to find Comet's line worthy of a short giggle.

"But you don't love your girlfriend, you don't love your girlfriend!" Moon repeated her earlier words.

"And you think, that you should, but she thinks that she's fat, but she isn't, but you don't love her anyway." _Still no idea what Comet said. Something about being fat?_

"And you don't love your mother, and you know that you should!" Star sang, and Draco sighed quietly. That was just all too true. "And you wish, that you would, but you don't anyway-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay!"

"You're so young, you're so goddamn young!" Comet, Moon, and Star repeated in turn.

"You're so young, you're so goddamn young!"

"You're so young, you're so goddamn young!"

"You're so goddamn young, you're so goddamn young!"

"You're so young, you're so goddamn young!"

"You're so young, you're so goddamn young!"

"You're so goddamn young, you're so goddamn young!"

"You're so goddamn young, you're so goddamn young." Moon was slowing down the tempo.

"You're so goddamn young, you're so goddamn young."

"You're so goddamn young, you're so goddamn young."

"You don't love your girlfriend," Star finished, "And you don't love your girlfriend, and you don't love your girlfriend, and you don't love your girlfriend!"

The song apparently over, the three fell silent. Draco waited a few minutes before looking over the top of his paper, only to see them standing before him.

"Did you enjoy the show, then?" Moon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, you're all very talented." Draco said evenly.

"Look, how about you tell us your name, and we'll tell you ours." Comet sighed.

"Draco," he said quietly, "My name is Draco."

"Astoria," the girl he had been calling Star spoke up.

"I'm Regina." Comet introduced.

"And I'm Grace." Moon finished. "Please stop stalking us."

"Grace!" Astoria frowned and swatted her friend's arm. "Be nice!"

"What were you singing?" Draco asked.

"A song I wrote, called 'Poor Little Rich Boy'." Regina answered. "Why?"

"It…spoke to me." He tried to dodge the question.

"You don't love your girlfriend? Or your mother?" Grace questioned.

"I tolerate Pansy, and my mother is being…difficult." Feeling more and more uncomfortable, Draco looked for a way to steer the conversation in another direction, but none presented themselves.

"I can see why, I mean, your mum _is_ going through a rough time, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't still love her." Astoria pointed out.

"I guess, but…wait, how do you know my mother is going through a rough time?" Draco frowned at the girls.

"I'm Astoria Greengrass, pureblood. I was homeschooled though, that's why you never saw me at Hogwarts." Astoria explained. "But everyone knows all about the Malfoy's troubles."

"Grace and I are half-bloods," Regina spoke up, "and our families sent us abroad for school."

A beeping noise came from Regina's watch, she exclaimed something about being late, and pulled Grace away towards the closest Underground station.

"So, homeschooling?"

Astoria smiled and sat down next to Draco on the bench. She had a feeling that they were about to have a long conversation.

Not that that was a bad thing, of course.

000

**Review please!**


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